


(fall back in love) eventually

by ghostl0rd



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostl0rd/pseuds/ghostl0rd
Summary: "Destiny's so romantic, don't you think, Noctis Lucis Caelum?" Post Lightning Returns. AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revised/repost/rewrite of ["this old piece"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2309324/chapters/5081405) and a repost from FFNet. 
> 
> I'd originally planned on completing the whole thing, and then posting it here but the flow felt off, and so here's the first part. I'm rewriting the other two and will probably have them up when I'm more awake ~~, which could be next week or next month or next year, depending~~.

 

Noctis is leaning his hip against the desk near the windows, watching Lucis' newest visitor crouching by his grandfather's koi pond in the courtyard below. Refraining from the urge to warp right over there and introduce the guy personally to the fish with a tactical shove of his boot.

 _Two seconds._  It would be glorious. He's done it to Prompto and—on the rare occasions that they let down their guard—Ignis and Gladiolus. So...what's stopping him?

"What do you think?" Luna asks, uncharacteristic anxiety clear in her voice.

Oh, right.  _The woman who knows her way around a trident and a gigantic water dragon,_   _that's_   _who_.

"I didn't know hair could defy gravity like that," Noctis holds his hands over his own head to demonstrate. "You say he doesn't use hair gel?"

Luna sounds smitten. "He doesn't have time for it," she says- _boasts_ , more like. "He's 'got work to do'. A man after my own heart."

"Or  _wealth_ ," Noctis adds, trying not to hurl. If he thought a 'single' Lunafreya was annoying, a dating one has to be insufferable. He should have kept his nose out of it, he  _should_   _have_ , but how could he  _not_ , with the way she was sneaking around, asking him to tell Gentiana she was just 'stepping outside for some fresh air'? And with the way she'd grabbed him by the collar and made him  _swear_ not to tell a soul, he'd naturally assumed it was something dangerous, something that threatened the peace of their world. It was only logical after a whole three months of watching her slip out for 'fresh air' that he follow her and intervene-for the good of both their kingdoms.

And gods, did he ever wish he  _didn't_.

From the moment she confessed Noctis had endured nothing but longing sighs and faraway stares into a distance that only lovestruck people would never tire of. Noctis had the man at the koi pond to thank for the condition Luna was now in and it more than piqued his interest. Who was this guy, really? And what the hell kind of black magic could he have cast to turn Luna into… _not-_ Luna. He'd blackmailed her into bringing him along so that he could complete his assessment and now that she  _had_ , he was more than a little dumbfounded.

Because Luna's 'type' seems to venture into the territory of leather-wearing bad-boys with piercings and military-issue combat boots.

 _Combat_  boots.

"He looks like a mercenary," Noctis says after much insistent nudging from Luna. "Check out his sword. I've never seen anything like it. What did you say his name was?"

"Cloud."

" _Cloud_ ," Noctis repeats, snorting. Luna lets out a giggle, but nudges him all the same.

"Cloud Strife of Nibelheim.  _Behave_."

" _Yeah_. Does not sound like a mercenary name at all," Noctis mutters under his breath. "I know my geography Luna, and I've never heard of a 'Nibelheim'. I think I'd remember if I did." His gaze goes back to 'Cloud' now basking in the afternoon sun, lying back on the bench with his arms behind his head, and then to the weapon lying within reach. "That sword though…"

" _Swords_ ," Luna corrects.

Now  _there_ 's a language he's fluent in. He turns, intrigued. " _Swords_."

Luna perches gracefully on the desk beside him.

"Fusion Swords, to be exact," she says. "There's six altogether and he wields it like he's fighting with a rapier. The weight just doesn't bother him at all—he might even be able to give the Kingsglaive a run for their money."

" _Heh, doubt it."_

"You haven't even heard the best part." Luna pauses for dramatic effect. "He's got a  _motorbike_."

So the Crown Princess of Tenebrae likes motorbike-riding bad-boys. Sylva is going to have a field day. "For real?"

Luna nods, proud. "He calls it  _Fenrir_. I brought him so you could..."

Noctis doesn't even register the last part. 'Cloud' has a motorbike  _too_? That equates to  _supreme_  badass in his books.

 _Maybe becoming friends with this outsider won't suck_ too _bad._

He's actually starting to see himself on Fenrir now: nothing but the wind in his hair; miles of blacktop leading to nowhere while he zooms into the sunset. Away from all of this political bullshit his father and Ignis drown him under on a daily basis...

Luna poking him in the ribs jars him back to reality. "Well?"

" _Meet_  him—Luna  _I_  feel like dating him."

Luna laughs. "First come first  _serve_ ," she tells him smugly. But then she goes pensive, in the way only an Oracle can be expected to. "I think the reason he's so strong is because he's seen the light too. He's died a few times and has ended up in the-well, he calls it the 'Lifestream'. It's not as gloomy as people say it is, and he's even met one of the gods. He calls her 'Aerith'. He says she was the last of the Cetra. A race of Ancients who…"

As she continues the pieces suddenly begin to fit. Why everything makes sense and at the same time  _doesn't_.

Nibelheim.

 _A_ Lifestream _instead of the Land of the Dead._

_Cetra instead of Lucii._

_"..._ and there's a man called Sephiroth who-"

"Luna," Noctis interrupts, slightly off-key. The princess blinks inquiringly at him. "Cloud's not from around here. Is he."

"No, of course—"

"I mean not from around here as in he's literally from  _another world_."

"Well… _yes_ ," Luna answers, somehow baffled—as if there were no qualms to be had about that fact.

Noctis stands to his full height now and crosses his arms. Stares at her pointedly.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," Luna starts.

" _Do you_?" Noctis half laughs, half demands. "Because your lack of concern is giving me  _cause_ for concern. He's  _from another world._ "

Rather than nod solemnly Luna swoons. "I  _know_. I love that fact."

"Luna  _please_  tell me you didn't…" Noctis abruptly pulls the brakes on finishing that statement. The proper princess of Tenebrae doesn't  _seem_  like the kidnapping type, but maybe he doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does if there's an otherworldly man playing with grandfather's koi.

Luna, who has always been able to hear the things Noctis doesn't say squeezes his arm, smiling. "It's nothing to worry about- _really_. I'm happy with him."

 _Soo not the point._  "Luna we're  _not supposed to_  interfere in other worlds. It's  _dangerous_. You could…" Noctis gives up, shaking his head. Luna's still dreamlike- _not good_. He's seen that look before on Prompto and it only means his words are passing in one ear and out the other. " _Luna."_

She gets up from the desk and approaches the window with a sigh, returning a smile and a wave to Cloud when he notices her from below.  _Yick,_ is all Noctis can think. He can barely stand it when Prompto does that loveydovey exchange with Cindy. Granted, because it's Cindy, the mechanic's a lot more 'cool' about it, but it's still hard to watch.

"I know it's not, and you're right," Luna says. "But it can't be helped."

"Uh… _yeah_  it can—you can put him back where you found him."

"I  _know_. But I…" Luna wraps her arms around herself and shakes her head, torn. "…I couldn't do it, even if I tried."

_God just kill me now._

"Luna he's easy on the eyes and all but—"

"It's not about looks!"

Noctis winces at the pitch. "Of course it isn't."

"I really mean it. We're  _destined_ , he and I. Soul mates."

 _Soul mates, she said_.

"Yeah. Okay." Is all Noctis can manage without laughing aloud. "And you guys are in…" He steels himself because he really  _hates_  saying the word aloud " _love_  with each other, right?"

"Not…yet."

 _"Yet?"_ Noctis regrets that question as soon as he asks.

"He has a deep friendship with his childhood friend, who also  _happens_  to be his first crush. They went on a date once, and he doesn't like to talk about how it went, but I know he cares about her. I got to meet her, too. You really can't blame him because she's beautiful, inside  _and_  out. And really, _really_  kind.  _And_  strong. And  _brave_. And compassionate. But I wanted to give us a chance so…"

"So you kidnapped him."

"You don't understand—"

"Then  _make_  me understand because I'm having a hard time reconciling this…" he gestures from the window to her "… _whatever_  this is."

Luna studies him quietly for a minute. "Okay," she says. She walks over, holds up her right hand. "Do you see it?"

"Is this some Tenebraen variation of flipping the bird?" Noctis teases. "Because I've gotta say: I'm more amused than offended."

"Use your powers."

Noctis does, but not before taking a moment to throw a look of pure judgement her way.

The room looks just as it has before, with the exception of a thin piece of— _thread, it looks like thread,_  Noctis thinks, red in colour, wrapped around Luna's right little finger, trailing to the ground toward the window and through the wall to the courtyard below…

…wrapping right around Cloud's.

Noctis approaches, reaching curiously. Luna shrinks back a little, wincing.

"No don't—"

His hand passes right through. As if a freezing draft has just into the room Luna shudders, wrapping her arms around herself. The thread shimmers as it catches the light.

"Please don't do that," she says. Her voice is pained, as if he's just reached over and pinched her. Confusion washes over him at first, but realization snaps sharply at its heels. Noctis finds himself backing away, wary.

_No, I don't believe it._

He's heard stories; has had pictures shown to him as a child. But he's never bought into that crap,  _still_  doesn't.

Luna's smiling now. "They're not stories, Noct." She points at him. "But if they are, then it seems you have a chapter of your own."

Noctis lets out a shout of horror and furiously begins waving his arm around, trying to rid himself of it.

"What the f-"

No matter how violently he shakes his hand, no matter how loosely tied around his pinky finger the string looks, the thing remains attached, like bubblegum beneath a boot.

"If you concentrate you can take hold of it," Luna suggests, giggling.

"Will it come off?" Noctis hates how desperate he sounds. This is some horrible dream, right?

"No."

"Then why-"

"Just do it Noct."

It takes a few tries. The thread feels warm,  _somehow_ , but that warmth is not quite enough to ease the anxiety.

"Now what?" Noctis asks. He can feel it slipping from his grasp.

Luna's eyes are filled with excitement. In hindsight, Noctis will realize he should have taken this as a warning sign. "Pull," she instructs.

He does just that.

There's a violently loud  _ripping_  sound, like fabric tearing apart and as he turns to the source his eyes become saucers. In the centre of the room a portal has opened, revealing a dark abyss where the string leads. The thread around his finger starts tightening and Noctis' heart stops and drops into his stomach. Doesn't take an idiot to figure out what's coming next.

"Good luck," Luna calls, and Noctis never gets the chance to ask  _why_  because now he's  _flying_ : over a hundred miles an hour, possibly breaking the sound barrier as an invisible force drags his unwilling body to an unknown destination. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth, praying for the best.

Or at the very least, a soft landing.

* * *

Though smell is not the first sense that returns to Noctis when he wakes up, it is the first thing he registers. And the first thing that Noctis smells is salt. More accurately,  _sea_ salt. He feels it stick to his skin when a warm breeze brushes his hair out of his eyes, hears waves crashing on a shore a little  _too_  closely-as if he's just a few footsteps away. Has he landed on a beach? There are annoying seagulls squawking above and around him too, but before he can even wonder aloud if he's right or wrong, the fourth sense confirms it for him and he  _tastes_ salt right as someone splashes his face with seawater. Some of it gets in his nostrils and mouth and his body automatically jolts him into a sitting position where he coughs and sputters and  _swears,_ fouler than a sailor, before he furiously wipes his eyes with his back sleeve and  _even more furiously_  glares up at the pink-haired girl standing over him.

"What was that for?" He demands, and in a tone that would have Regis shaking his head.

" _You are a_ prince _, Noct_ ," Noctis imagines him saying, flicking him in the forehead for emphasis. " _That kind of behaviour is rude and reflects badly upon me as a father and king of Lucis."_

Now, Noctis loves his father; respects, and fears the man too, but in this moment— he can't bring himself to care.

See,  _normally_ , yes, he'd be a tad more 'calm' and 'collected' about the matter, but that's because the rules of Lucii society demand it of him.  _Here_ , in this unknown world where he's  _practically_  a nobody, (a fact he can't seem to get his head around because people always recognize him before he even registers they are sprinting to him from long distances away), those rules no longer apply.

 _He's_  the victim here.  _He_  didn't ask for the stupid, magical thread wrapped around his finger to drag him unwillingly into this ugly-okay,  _actually, the beach isn't that bad_ — _it's really nice, white, soft sand and clear blue water_ —this… _dream world,_  of sorts which is slowly becoming more real by the second. As the kidnappee it's his god-given  _right_  to be rude.

 _You just don't go around dragging people to other worlds out of your own amusement._ That's  _what you call being rude_ , Noctis thinks.

"Sorry, I thought you were dead," explains the girl, smiling at him. Noctis' resolve to stay angry takes a few hesitant steps back. She has the kind of smile that'd make anyone take a good, hard look at themselves and feel like a real asshole. The effect is amplified as well, because she's as cute as the bright red buttons on her sundress. "Did you fall asleep on the beach?"

Does he  _look_ like the type to-never mind.

"Something like that," Noctis nods, and the girl nods sagely with him. Then, she launches into an account about her own experience about falling asleep on this very beach under the shade of the paopu which she points to show, but Noctis finds it really hard to concentrate because his right pinky finger is just  _itching_. As he frowns at the paopu he fights the urge to scratch, let alone acknowledge it. If he ignores it, it'll go away, right? Video games and comic books have taught him that prophecies and 'destiny' mumbo-jumbo is self-fulfilling, so he's not going to chance it. Whatever game 'fate' or 'destiny' is playing, he's having no part of it.

"Are you here on holiday?" The girl asks. There's a look in her eye Noctis is sure he's seen on Luna but he can't pinpoint the exact context  _when._ He does remember that nothing beneficial (for him) has ever come of it.

"Something like that," Noctis answers, now wary. "Why?"

She giggles then, and he wonders if she thinks he's being coy. (He's not.) Then he wonders if Prompto's right about the thing about girls being attracted to guys who 'play' aloof. Wonders (to his sudden horror) if he's sent the wrong message, and if  _she's_  the one on the other end of his string. He doesn't make it obvious as he studies her right pinky, but the real challenge comes in keeping his composure when he makes out the thread wrapped around her finger. It's not  _tied_ , like his is (thank Etro), but  _tangled_ , like she's accidentally stumbled upon it, because it continues to the sand, up the dunes and toward the town.

 _I'll just have to avoid going that way,_  Noctis rationalizes (or at least,  _thinks_  he's rationalizing) to himself. He stands and begins dusting himself off.

"Oh nothing," she says, completely oblivious "it's just my friend just bought a new house and we're having a little housewarming/barbeque to celebrate." At 'barbeque' Noctis' stomach suddenly growls and her eyes light up, excited. "It's not very far, and I can drop you off at your place afterward."

"That's a little dangerous," Noctis coughs, trying to disguise his grumbling insides "don't you think, inviting a total stranger over?"

She smiles, like she's been waiting for that question. Or has answered it often, whichever comes first. "Tell me  _your_  name, then."

"That won't make any difference."

"I'd still like to know it," she insists, a tiny pout forming on the corners of her mouth.

"Why?"

She smiles again. "So I can properly introduce you guys, of course."

Noctis, whose mouth had been opened halfway to tell the girl 'thank you but no', is now clamped shut. He watches as she takes a hold of the string and twirls it like a ribbon in the air around her. Listens, as she laughs happily while she dances on the sand in front of him. It scares the shit out of him.

"Hey listen, could you not—"

"Destiny's so romantic, don't you think, Noctis Lucis Caelum?" Her hand tightens around it, and Noctis swallows nervously.

"How do you know my name?"

"That's because  _I'm_ —" but her eyes widen as if remembering something important that should be kept secret, and she cuts off and then giggles, a hand rising to cover her mouth. "Oops! Can't tell you!"

It is  _definitely_  past the time to get going. Noctis fakes a yawn and casually takes a step back.

"Actually, you know, I'm  _really_  tired and—"

" _Actually_ ," the girl cuts in, a cruel smirk on her face as she takes hold of the string with both hands, "I wasn't  _asking_."

She yanks it toward her.

"Wait! I don't—" is the last thing Noctis manages to say that is civil, because the rest that trails after him while he hurtles like a ragdoll toward the unknown (again), is a string of colorful expletives.

"Call me Lumina," the girl yells, sounding irritatingly close and far away at the same time.

Everything goes black.

* * *

 

The backyard Noctis comes to; in a state that can only be described as semi-consciousness and delirium, is empty save for 'Lumina' sitting on the fence eating a popsicle. Never one to ignore details '  _completely'_ , he notices that she's done away with the colorful sundress in favour of a black lolita-esque number.

She smiles, but the vibe he detects is anything but friendly. As someone who in all his thirty years of playing the role he has been assigned from birth on a stage more complex than the masks he wears on a day to day basis, Noctis knows a thing or a hundred about fake smiles, and this girl is as convincing as the diamond ring (read: actually cubic zirconia) Prompto proposed to Cindy with.

The change in wardrobe was the first giveaway: definitely not the result of a preteen brat acting on childish whim. It's an assertion—and a not so subtle one at that—of her role on this new stage he has found himself on, and while he'd never in a million years admit to being the hero (it's too much pressure and he's done a lot of questionable things that heroes wouldn't do) he's very certain that she's the villain.

Something cold hits his head and lands in his lap.

"You're gonna need the energy," she says but Noctis still eyes the frozen desert like it's been laced with cyanide. As if reading his mind she holds a hand theatrically to her heart. "Why would I poison you when there's so much  _fun_  to be had?"

"I think you need to reevaluate your definition of that word, kid" Noctis mutters, before the label catches his eye. "Sea-salt," he reads.

"Try it," she urges.

Now he's definitely convinced that she's trying to poison him. "Don't really like sweets." It's the most diplomatic answer he can offer.

" _Everyone_  likes sweets."

"Not me." At least, not anymore. He's grown out of them-these things happen.

"Oh no, that won't do," she wags a finger at him as she says it, and it makes him morbidly curious.

"Why?"

She tosses her popsicle stick over her shoulder and into the neighbor's yard behind. The dog on the other side takes it as a violation of an unspoken peace treaty and starts barking its head off. Lumina barely hears it; like someone who has had too much practice in the exercise.

"Because  _she_ loves sweets," she answers. "If  _you_  don't like sweets and  _she_  does, then what  _do_  you have in common? What's the point of all this?"

Noctis figures the 'she' she's talking about has to be his—and his stomach lurches uncomfortably at the term because it sounds so ludicrous— _soulmate_. And while he's not at all ready for a commitment of such existential magnitude; what with his inconquerable list of duties and desire to remain unattached for as long as humanly possible; a tiny part of him utters a silent prayer of thanks to the universe for at least getting  _that_  aspect of his sexuality right (inconvenient timing and locale aside).

It's not enough to make him take a bite out of the ice cream; however.

He tosses it back to her but overshoots and they both listen as the dog gets even more riled up, yapping louder than before. The fence even starts to shake. Noctis is tempted to push her off, but he decides bailing on her while she's distracted with teasing the dog is a much better idea.

Only, it takes him a few seconds and a few tries to realize that he can't warp at all. Not even to shift ten measly centimeters to the right. It's baffling. He can feel the power in him stir, but just before his mind can direct the energy it short circuits and then stalls, like a car with a broken starter.

"Try standing on your head."

"What the hell did you do to me?" Noctis hisses.

"Nothing that you didn't want done to yourself."

" _What_?"

"If you want to go home you have to play along," Lumina says. She tosses another packet of sea-salt ice cream at him.

"What if I don't want to play?"

She shrugs. "Then you're stranded here until you change your mind. Though I wouldn't take too long to act-there  _are_  consequences."

"Like what?"

In the evening light Lumina's expression turns unexpectedly sombre. "Fading into nothingness for starters." She points to his hand. "See?"

Noctis knows he should feel relieved to find no string around his little finger, but its absence is just as unsettling. "What does it mean?"

"It means you need to stop observing and start  _participating_."

"And how do I do that?"

She giggles.

"Come on, Lumina. I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

Lumina stands and pirouettes on the fence perfectly without losing balance. "Play the  _game_  Noct," she says while she walks to one end. On her way back she performs an aerial cartwheel. "Find your soul mate, then kiss her like the world's ending. Ever heard of Sleeping Beauty? Well she's your Prince Charming. Kiss her and you'll wake up."

"And what happens when I do?"

Lumina stops, just as she's about to pirouette again and snickers instead. "My, aren't  _we_  confident."

"Why not? I'll just follow the string and then..." And then Noctis realizes. Yeah,  _what_ string?

Lumina's smile is bright enough to light up the entire Lucis capital. A kind of smile a ban should be enacted against— _no one_  should look that happy. It's eerie, somewhat evil.

"And then?" The preteen prompts, gesturing slowly for him to continue.

The world seems to tilt on its axis and Noctis staggers backwards a bit, staring at his right hand. Beads of perspiration begin lining his forehead as he tries to will the thread back into opacity. He falls onto his knees, stumped and at a loss.

_How am I supposed to…if I can't see the…_

Lumina dismounts from the fence and lands with a flourish before patting him on the head. "There, there."

"I don't want a girlfriend," Noctis tells her. "I'm running the kingdom just fine without one."

"Aww you have such soft hair," Lumina muses, evidently not hearing any of that.

"I'm not ready for one; much less a  _soul mate_."

She ruffles his hair like he's a puppy and not a grown man. It's not totally unpleasant but it does feel weird.

"Mmm yeah I kinda figured," she says. "But then, no one truly 'is ready', are they."

"I don't even  _know_  what I'm looking for in a woman—I can barely even talk to—I mean, looks are nice, but  _long term_..." Noctis groans and facepalms. "Shit…Long term?" Is he supposed to bring her home to meet dad and the guys  _too_? What kind of pressure is  _that_?

"Whoa, hey," Lumina laughs. "No one's saying you have to  _marry_  her or bring her home. Just  _find_   _her_. That's the point of all this. Then the game ends."

"But how will I know?"

Lumina's hands are cold as she squeezes his cheeks while she raises his head, but her eyes are warm, filled with a wisdom beyond her years.

"When you know," she whispers, " _you_   _know_."

"I...don't... _?"_

 _"_ Welp, gotta go!"

"Wait! Lumina—"

In a theatrical poof of crystal dust she's gone, just like that.

"Shit!" Noctis hollers. He turns to the fence and starts kicking it.

_Fucking._

_Stupid._

_Just_ had _to pull on it._

 _Just_ had _to ask._

_Motherfucking—_

Someone clears their throat behind him and all thoughts in the Lucian prince's head scatter. He turns, like a deer frozen in headlights.

There's a group of people standing there, just… _staring_  at him.  _Gods, how long have they been there._

A blonde man, easily the tallest in the group, with a build to rival Gladiolus, is the first to speak:

"ARE-YOU-OKAY?"

He enunciates every word slowly, like he's trying to communicate with an alien species but as irritating as it is, even Noctis has to admit he must look like a real psycho, standing in a stranger's backyard and assaulting their fence. But rather than answer, because there's no way anyone in their right mind would believe his story about 'magical red threads' and 'destiny' Noctis decides to do the first sane thing he should have done upon arrival. He tosses the sea salt ice cream at them and while they scramble out of the way as if he's hurled a grenade, he makes a dash for the door, wrenches it open and  _bulldozes_  through the house. On his way down the front steps with the now agitated group on his heels, he collides into someone just on their way up and knocks her flat on her ass.

"Sorry" he mutters, quickly pulling her up.

"What the hell is wrong with you," she grumbles, but just as Noctis meets her eyes and to get a good look at who's going to be on the receiving end of his sarcasm, his mind goes blank, save for a single thought— _she's gorgeous—_ and he isn't sure if he's imagining it, but time also seems to stop.

"I uh..."

A high-pitched voice yelling, "Thief! Get him!" as the front door bursts open is all it takes to break the spell.

Noctis barrel rolls away from the big blonde man's grasp just in time and high tails it out of there, like a bat out of hell. Lumina's cryptic message immediately replays in his head.

_'When you know; you know.'_

As much as he's tempted to, he doesn't look back.

_It can't be that easy._

* * *

 

When one grows up in a gilded cage, where there are rules that dictate every decision one makes, one cannot be blamed for developing a fascination (or is the proper term flirtation) with bending the bars of this cage, or breaking them altogether. And though Noctis is no exception whether he is sneaking out of class to watch mixed martial arts street fights with Prompto or sneaking back onto the palace grounds before the crack of dawn;  _despite_  his inherent desire for a life less constricting, even  _he_  wouldn't go so far as to do something  _illegal_.

He's rebellious, not stupid.

Which is…probably a song the irritable police officer across from him has heard often and Noctis suspects, with the growing sinking feeling in his gut, that  _this_  time is one too many.

It's in the look she gives Noctis: the look a lion has before it takes down a gazelle that makes him stop fiddling with the handcuffs on his wrists to sit completely still. He internally breathes a silent sigh of relief when she goes back to perusing the multiple affidavits attached to her clipboard.

He'd made the mistake of underestimating the local community here. In addition to the five strangers chasing after him, there was also an elderly woman on her scooter with a golf umbrella (who made him run that much faster), a homeless man (who made him wonder if there were new lows he could sink beneath) plus all the patrons sitting at the outside tables of Valhalla Café (his brain somehow decided the name of the café would be an important detail; running for his life aside).

"I'm going to give you one last chance to cooperate," she says.

If not for the slight edge to her tone, one would almost think by her blank expression that she is incredibly apathetic and bored about the matter. (She's not; he's not naive.) And as the clock on the wall behind her stretches toward midnight, Noctis can't blame her. She'd actually just been on her way out when he and his arresting officer had burst into the precinct.

"I  _am_  co-operating," Noctis says for the fifteenth time that night. "My name is Noctis Lucis Caelum and I didn't steal anything. I would  _never_ steal anything. I'm heir to the Lucis throne, son of Regis the—"

 _"One last chance_ ," the woman cuts in with a warning glance.

She pulls off her glasses as she says it, reaches into her desk for lens cleaner and begins cleaning them. Noctis notices the initials 'J.N.' on each of the arms and idly wonders what this woman who has his balls in a vice would be named. She'd definitely get along with Ignis—they have that annoying superpower in common.

"State your full name and occupation.  _Truthfully_ , "she adds, just as Noctis opens his mouth.

Pride has Noctis clamping his mouth shut and scowling. While it ' _would'_  be easier to make up a fake alias and backstory, the fact of the matter is that he is a Caelum. And Caelum men stay true to themselves no matter how dire the consequences; no matter how much the world changes or how great the odds are.

Which means…jack  _shit_  to a  _non_ -Caelum, which also means he will resultantly score  _zero_  in the sympathy department when she throws him into a cell for obstruction of justice. Noctis don't even need to look at her—he can just  _feel_  in the air between them that this conversation is heading south.

Actually, no, that was a lie.

This conversation has been going south the moment he opened his big fat mouth. He's pretty sure he's hit rock bottom when he realizes  _why_ in movies and real life people are instructed not to say anything until their lawyer arrives.

Just as he thinks that however, there's a gruff knock on the door, and when his arresting officer pokes his head in and glares at him, he rescinds those thoughts faster than a fisherman reeling in the catch of his life. His situation is about to get a whole lot worse, isn't it.

"What are  _you_  still doing here?" says (or rather  _accuses)_ 'J.N.', with unmistakeable dark intent. "Or does your capacity to frustrate people know no limits?"

One could throw in a quip about unresolved sexual tension between the two here, but definitely only in an alternate reality. In this one the man ignores her and keeps his gaze on Noctis, who in turn focuses on the thin scar above the man's left eye( it's much easier than enduring the look of pure loathing on his face).

"It's your lucky day,  _scum_."

"Excuse me?" demands Noctis' other oppressor. "I don't think so."

"Captain's orders," a new voice says.

"You can't be serious," J.N. groans.

'Scar' pushes the door open wider and a man in a leather jacket with a sheepish expression steps in, accompanied by another in a black pinstriped suit with an attaché case.

"Who the hell are you?" J.N. almost snarls.

The suit turns to Noctis instead of answering her and smiles. "Sorry we took so long," he hands an official-looking document to J.N. as he says it. "Efficiency isn't what it used to be at the Mayor's office. Now if you'd kindly follow me—"

"Wait  _just a minute_ ," says J.N, peering suspiciously from the paper in her hand to Noctis' yet-to-be-named saviour. "I know  _everyone_  from the Mayor's office and I've definitely never seen you before."

" _Clearly_ ," agrees the suit with a chuckle. Both Scar and J.N. bristle at the comment, but before any more verbal barbs can be thrown, 'Jacket' steps in. He speaks with a drawl that reminds Noctis of the space westerns he used to watch as a kid.

"Rosch, Nabaat, stand down," he says.

"But  _Captain_ —"

"Mayor's got my hands tied behind my back on this one. Stand down."

Just as Noctis is halfway out the door, Scar/Rosch grabs him by the elbow.

"Smile while you can. This isn't over.  _Thief_ ," he hisses before letting go.

By the manic zeal in Rosch's eyes Noctis knows he isn't lying. He keeps his silence until he and the suit are safely out of the precinct and piled into the back of a waiting black BMW before he finally speaks.

"Who are you?" Noctis asks, wondering if his dad has friends in this world.

"Just someone who lost a bet," replies the man, focusing on the driver in the rear-view mirror. "Are we done here?"

"For now," Lumina winks from the driver's seat, smiling as she tips her cap to the two of them and then revving the engine.

" _You_!" Noctis says, both horrified and disbelieving.

"Oh I've always wanted to drive one of these things…age limit my ass. "

The man beside him lets out a 'hmph' before vanishing into nothing, but Noctis only vaguely registers it, because he's forgotten to buckle up, and is now more preoccupied with being pressed against the back seat trying to hold on for dear life while this crazy bitch zooms through the tiny township, making sudden lefts and rights.

 _Just_ had  _to pull on it,_ he thinks with a groan as his face smooshes against the toughened glass partition.

God knows where they're going, but one thing's for certain: if he isn't the sorriest asshole in town already-he's definitely going to be the sorest.

* * *

 

Lumina is nowhere to be seen when Noctis regains consciousness and that's probably a good thing—for Lumina. It takes him a few painful seconds to peel his face away from the counter that he's been previously hunched over, corpse-like. While he's rubbing the side of his face to get the numbness out of it, someone yawns from the other side of the counter and pushes a steaming latte in front of his face.

"To help with your hangover," the barista explains.

Noctis accepts the coffee calmly and without argument. There's honestly no point in explaining otherwise, and—holy  _shit_ , is this latte the best thing that's happened to him since he landed in this backwater reality where  _no one_  seems to understand the weight of the Caelum name. The beans have not been burnt; milk integrated perfectly with the expresso. He closes his eyes and savours it, because who knows when that little hellspawn is going to reappear to dropkick his world off-kilter again.

A few minutes later, his barista chuckles, amused. "You want me to give you and that coffee some  _alone_  time?" she teases, and Noctis chokes and sputters, face tomato red.

"Sorry," he laughs nervously, shyly glancing up "my day just hasn't been going… _wow_ …" he breathes, every single thought in his head flying out the window while he  _stares_ , the whole world slow-grinding to a halt.

Again.

_When you know, you know._

The woman across from him just frowns a little out of concern, then reaches out and presses the back of her hand against his forehead, like she's checking for a fever. Next she holds up a finger, asks how many he thinks he's seeing.

"Um," Noctis starts. He honestly needs more female friends in his life—then he'd know how to talk to them without being all awkward and weird about it. Growing up, interactions with the fairer sex were kind of a rarity. It's honestly almost sad that he can practically count all the female friends he has on only one hand.

"Your friend said you might be a little concussed," she says, and Noctis' stomach bottoms out because who or  _what_ ever she is, Lumina is  _no_ friend, and he really hopes the woman across from him is no relation of hers.

"I'm not from around here so friends are impossible," Noctis replies, more defensively and curt than he intends, and it's second-nature for him to immediately feel bad, especially because  _her_  cheeks turn a little red.

(By all the stars in the sky he's seriously, so,  _so_  screwed because  _damn it_  if that sight doesn't make his heart beat that much faster. )

"Okay, I didn't actually  _see_  your friend," she admits, "but whoever they were left a note asking me to help you out."

She reaches into her apron pocket and passes said note to him.

* * *

_To the barista of Valhalla Café affectionately nicknamed 'Lightning',_

_The man currently slumped over your counter is not dead, but definitely in dire need of help and a friend. He responds to 'Noct'._

_Noct is on a journey of self-discovery. He will insist many times that he does not need help—he's an idiot;_ please _help him. He'll tell you he's from a long line of kings and from another world—(so precious) please humour him. As you will notice from the bruises on his temple and forehead, he's hit his pretty little head a couple of times, so please be patient._

_For your trouble, five thousand gil has been deposited into your bank account, and another five thousand when he finally leaves-he will, promise._

_Thank you kindly._

_-L_

_P.S. He likes making terrible puns. You don't have to laugh to make him feel validated. In fact, it is preferred that you_ don't  _laugh, so as not to encourage any more terrible-pun creation._

_P.P.S. At some point he may try to kiss you. You are more than welcome to punch him in the face, should that happen._

* * *

"I swear when I get my hands on that little hag," Noctis mutters into his mug.

"So Noct," the barista says, sounding vaguely amused. She's sliding trays of cookies—chocolate chip, almond, oatmeal—fresh from the oven into a glass display case on the counter. Noctis notices she's already set a plate full of cookies in front of him and greedily drags it closer. "What exactly does your 'journey of self-discovery' entail?"

Noctis goes beet red, in the middle of savouring chocolate chip. A few crumbs land on the counter, which earns a slight, Ignis-like twitch under Lightning's eye. "No, you don't have to—"

She waves him off with a spatula. "I'd be lying if I said the money wasn't convincing, so I'm not going to. The money's a nice bonus. That being said, Bodhum's quiet even at its most hectic and I've got nothing else on,  _so_." She plants plastic-gloved hands onto the counter and fixes him with a determined expression. "Journey of self-discovery— _go_."

Noctis sets down his mug after a long sip and looks at her, deadpan. Honesty. Honesty should scare her away.

"I'm here to find my soul mate," he declares. "I can't go home until I do. Also, there's a red thread tied around my right pinky, but I can't see it anymore-I don't know why, but if I don't find her, my entire existence will fade into nothingness."

The entire time he's speaking, Lightning is nodding solemnly. Like they're two generals locked in a life and death discussion over the war table. He finds himself thinking of Ignis, and wonders if that guy's hyperventilating right now because Noctis  _did_  have all those meetings he needed to go to after meeting up with Luna.

"And when you find your soul mate?" Lightning asks.

"I have to kiss her." Noctis blushes a little, but Lightning doesn't notice-well, if she does, then she clearly doesn't care enough to tease him because he's never seen anyone more dead serious about helping him with this absurd scenario that is apparently now his life and reality.

"Okay," Lightning states.

It's not a condescending ' _okaaaay'_  like he's expecting, like he  _usually_  gets from Gladiolus.  It's more of a 'Yeah, cool.' kind of 'okay'. Which is...actually pretty cool of her, and a relief, but still unexpected.

"Err-"

"But if you try to kiss me I definitely will try to break every single bone in your body."

He has no idea what to say to that, but thankfully the welcome bell rings-Valhalla has new customers to steal Lightning's attention.

"Be right back," is all she says, and Noctis doesn't know whether to find that unconditional acceptance worrying or comforting. What he  _does_  know, is that he's friends with an attractive barista, and the opportunity to steal glances at said barista while she works, should not go to waste.

What? He's not dead, and soul mate or not, he's still  _single_.

It's allowed.


End file.
